


Boatfriends

by ThisisVenereVeritas



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-27 15:31:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8407099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisisVenereVeritas/pseuds/ThisisVenereVeritas
Summary: It was clear to Angela the only reason Gabriel left the sublevels was to appease her and make up for lost time between her work, studying, interning and medical emergencies, and his missions abroad, his office so far down below and his natural inclination to disengage from conversations.
She had a feeling there would be no fingers intertwining during their walk together.





	

Dead leaves burned with the memories of a once warm summer, now replaced with an autumn current. Angela ran fingers through her hair, keeping some looser strands in place while giving herself the opportunity to take in the the fine scenery. Trees ahead, pregnant with  yellow, red and orange, rattled and birthed their leaves, along with the refreshing scent of bark and moisture. The grass underneath lay dull, but carried a dewy gloss as though it was offering the last of its essence before preparing for winter hibernation.

Angela looked around and spotted a few others wandering the park. Locals mostly.  This time of the year most tourists stayed at home. People were dressed for the occasion, wearing warm layers of colorful wool to keep them safe from the upcoming icy winds delivered from the alps. A couple stood not too far, holding hands and admiring the speckled lake. Angela blinked, turned and saw Gabriel huddled, his eyes glued to the path ahead. He was dressed in his usual fashion; dark hoodie, worn leather boots and faded black jeans, which wouldn't have been so much of a problem during a warmer season, but now it was becoming a hindrance in the middle of fall. His shoulders were stiff, arms glued to his sides and his hands were tucked away in his pockets. Gabriel wore the look of an uncomfortable, but terribly stubborn man who had refused to ask for help trying to buy something that would make this morning bearable.

It was clear to Angela the only reason Gabriel left the sublevels was to appease her and make up for lost time between her work, studying, interning and medical emergencies, and his missions abroad, his office so far down below and his natural inclination to disengage from conversations.

She had a feeling there would be no fingers intertwining during their walk together.

"It's cold," Angela said. "It'll snow soon."

As soon as she had said it Gabriel's face scrunched up, lips curled inward in disgust. Hot air splashed out of his nostrils, and he tucked his hands deeper into the pockets of his old hoodie. "Great," he muttered through his scowl. She wished Gabriel didn't do that.  She told him a hundred times how grim he looked when he so quickly reverted to wearing a frown.

She had meant for it to begin a conversation about them going to town, her helping him pick out something nice to wear, something dark… but warm. Gabriel needed to stay warm. He always looked so stiff, bound up in layers of discomfort from being in a new setting, a new position, and it seemed there was nothing Angela could do emotionally to ease the growing tensions, but at the very least she could buy him something that would _maybe_ ease him into a better state.

But now Gabriel was worse off than he'd been a moment before, reminded of how different Switzerland was from the dry heat that still plagued the American west coast.

"Won't it look pretty?" Angela muttered, a barely raised question she came up with last second as an attempt to save the struggling conversation.

Gabriel raised his head a little, and Angela could see a blush starting to form on his cheeks. He was so cold. Were it not for his beanie and hoodie, Gabriel would break into shivering. He'd get upset, obsess over it until he lost his temper, and then he'd finally snap. They'd be angry at each other and would separate for the remainder of the day; Angela taking refuge in the med ward, and Gabriel several feet beneath the building, and she'd busy herself with excess work, stay awake until it hurt, and Gabriel would remain in darkness, growing bitter and sinking further away.

_You're thinking too much_ , she thought. Angela stepped over dying grass and leaves, her nose wrinkling under the sounds of their crunch, and she reached out with a hand and hooked her arm around Gabriel's. He lifted his head up, glanced at her with lost eyes. It was the first time in a long while since she'd seen those deep brown eyes possessed with something other than hostility.

"What?" he said. Angela noted how soft they looked at this moment, and made sure to encapsulate it in memory.

"The snow," she answered with a calm smile. "Everything will look so lovely. So white and..."

"Cold."

"Pure,” she corrected.

Gabriel shrugged, lifting Angela from her spot. "I guess." He sniffed,  and then lowered his shoulders.  Angela relaxed with him. "Never really cared much for it."

Angela locked onto his easing frown. The bottom lip stuck out. With her free hand, she reached out and pushed against Gabriel's lip, catching his attention again, and thoroughly distracting him from the cold.

He grabbed her by the wrist. "Naughty."

She stared at his large, gloveless hand. It was warm, a result of being tucked so deep in dark pockets, and Angela could detect the struggle it faced in not trying to clench round her small, delicate wrists. Gabriel held her, but with the utmost restraint. His true strength could snap her wrist, break it and potentially end her career as a doctor. She felt his hand begin to squeeze around her, searching for warmth.

"Me? Never." Angela smiled. The grip on her shook. She wanted to hold his hand. Angela wanted to take Gabriel to a nice place where they had things in his size, buy them and make him wear it. Give him some gloves that'd help him brave the cold. She wanted to hold his hand.

Another gust of wind blew. Gabriel let go of Angela. She stepped in,  wrapped her thin arms around him,  and pushed her chest against his, inviting him with the heat from her body. He greedily took it. Thick, muscular arms embraced her, large hands slid down her back and nestled in her pockets. One hand remained as spread as it could in its limited space, the other gave her an intentional squeeze. Her face warmed and she sighed into his chest.  The cold wind died down, but Gabriel persisted, rubbing his head into her neck, the cold tip of his nose piercing her skin. Gray clouds tore apart, allowing for some light to break through their thinning sheets. The heat sank on top of them, coated the two bodies in delicate warmth. Gabriel did not let go.

* * *

 

The bobbing wood creaked under Gabriel's rough swaying.  Angela stood near the end of a small pier, her concentration split between the docked boats, the floating leaves swirling at the center of the lake, and Gabriel's waning patience.

"What are we doing?" she heard him ask.

"Enjoying ourselves," Angela answered.  She couldn't tell if he was irritated or not. "Are you bored?"

Gabriel shrugged at her question and continued to sway, taking little amusement at the way the old wood shifted underneath his changing weight. The sound of wafting water underneath her had Angela consistently repositioning herself. She sighed inwardly and debated asking Gabriel if he wanted to go back to headquarters. She refrained only because she knew it'd make things worse. Even if he wanted to go back, Angela understood that the mere sight of the building, the constant reminder of Gabriel's sinking position against Jack's rising, would rub against Gabriel’s  contained aggression.

One of the covered boats bumped against the dock. She looked over at the rows of boats linked together by a small chain. Although covered, she could tell they weren't the new age boats that could traverse across water without disrupting the balance of life underneath, but instead the old fashioned boats that possessed a motor or pair of oars. The kind of boats that families used to expend all their energy. Two boats bumped into one another, and Angela fantasized a warm, romantic summer afternoon where she and Gabriel spent their day at the center of a sparkling lake.  "Too bad the boats are locked this time of the year."

The rocking ceased. "You like rowing?" Gabriel asked from behind.

"It's not that I do," she answered without turning. The dock bobbed less and less, and Angela regained her footing. "I just think it could be fun."

"Fun?" His voice was suspiciously low. Angela pulled at her sleeves,  looked over her shoulder and saw Gabriel crouched, a hand outstretched and reaching for the massive sheet covering the boats. He lifted it up, exposing a small, damp pale motorboat underneath. She saw him grab the chain.

"What are you doing?" she asked. There was a glimmer in his eyes that alerted Angela. The energy of the typical bad boy. The kind of energy Angela wanted to loathe, but instead found intriguing, alluring, arousing. Gabriel’s hand squeeze the chain. The metal gave way under the inhuman strength. Angela struggled to remain disappointed. "Gabriel, don't."

"Nobody is going to stop us." Cold metal hit the bottom of the boat. Gabriel stood up, smirking at his work before shifting into an almost pleasant smile. Angela wanted to be flattered by the smile, but already missed the deviant curl of his lips. "And if someone tries, tell them who you are. If you're pretty face doesn't help you get away, your position in Overwatch will."

"Gabriel."

He grabbed her hand. In his palm was the hot, smooth indentation left behind from the chain. "Let's have fun, Angela."

Angela was sure that was an order. She stopped herself from smiling, and then provided Gabriel the smallest hesitation; a delicate pull of the arm before giving in. The same hands that shivered into pockets, that grabbed her so possessively and broke metal chains, now guided her carefully into the boat.

She moved to check the engine. Gabriel stopped her. With his boots, he pushed against the old wood, sending them off at a surprisingly quick pace. Angela held onto the plastic frame, a little concerned if Gabriel failed to take his strength into consideration before kicking off. The front of the boat cut through floating dead leaves, stirring a new pathway for them. The boat slowed as they got closer to the middle. Gabriel stood, one foot on top of the engine, appearing satisfied at the distance he created. His hands were tucked away again, but the the light in his dark eyes informed her he was alright, for now.

"This nice," she said. Soft wind blew. It was cold, but tolerable. She saw Gabriel scrunch up, but the pleased look didn't falter. She sat in the middle of the boat, her eyes up on him. She made sure he could see her small, full lip smile. "Thank you."

Gabriel glistened at its sight. "No problem."

They continued to slow, the boat on its journey to the other side of the lake. Yellow leaves slid on top of one another, spilled under red, orange and brown, and painted a new canvas to Angela to admire. Her ears and cheeks were pink at the simple delight Gabriel offered her. The boat turned, then ceased its movement.

Angela felt brave. "We should go to town later."

"Ok."

No hesitation meant she didn't need to come up with a reason, yet Angela was compelled to think of one. At any moment Gabriel might get bored. She stared at his queer eyes set on the gray sky, and the way he still clung to himself in his atypical fashion, and wasn't so sure she could.

That tall, dark figure that stood so stubbornly against the cold and the changing seasons; it was Gabriel Reyes standing against the changing world, holding it all in. She knew Gabriel was upset at the those who handed Jack the prestigious role of strike commander over him, felt conflicted at his friend for accepting the offer, at the rest of Overwatch for allowing the promotion to take place. It was hard to say whether Gabriel f _ully_ acknowledged his own faults, if he comprehended that, in order for things to get better, he would need to change.

Cold air rippled. It swept across the water and hit Angela with a surprising sting. She backed into the boat, rubbing her sensitive nose while bringing her legs to her chest. The boat bobbed, swayed as the wind pushed it away from the center, towards the other side of the lake. Angela closed her eyes, listening to its phantom calling, the songs of leaves being lifted and tossed around, the lapping of water against the boat's plastic body. Then the boat shook. It rocked to the left, then quickly to the right. Angela opened her eyes, startled to see Gabriel no longer positioned on top of the motor, but shaking in place, looking miserable and victimized by the sudden onslaught. His arms were tightly wrapped around him as he struggled to bring himself down to shelter his body with his own heat, but the jerkiness of his movement, now coupled with the delicate frame of the boat, made Angela nervous.

She grabbed his leg. "Don’t rock the boat! We'll fall in!"

Alerted, Gabriel stopped and looked down at the shaking girl clinging to him. Their eyes met right away, displaying their doubts to one another. The concern in Angela's reached Gabriel, and with it he was able to see ahead, at her fear of the boat flipping over, them falling into the lake and experiencing a cold that would make the winds he was facing right now pale in comparison. He foresaw Angela's golden hair stained with green muddiness from the lake, her clean clothes a magnet to decomposing twigs and leaves, her small body shivering and weighed down by the water.

He stopped moving. The wind cut through his old, thin hoodie. The hair on his arms arose. Skin and muscles tightened. Gabriel held his tongue, clenched his teeth and remained where he stood at the center of the boat, his eyes never leaving Angela's. Her fear did not wane, not until the breeze finally passed and their stilled, leaving behind an eerie silence.

The water in the lake swirled, bringing the boat several feet away from the edge. Despite being cold, he dropped his arms to the side, fingers curling inward and threatening to form dangerous fists. "Damn wind."

Angela tugged his jeans. "Get down here."

The loss of heat from her body shocked his leg. Gabriel looked around the lake, relieved that he couldn't see anyone within clear view. He sank into the boat, fighting against himself to build a wall around him to save himself from whatever scolding lay ahead. Gabriel sat down, producing a slight face when the surrounding moisture hit him. His head sank, and he saw dirty water pooled at the center of the boat. He was too afraid to check to see if he got Angela wet. A wall it would be then.

But instead of his wall, Angela's heat covered his body. She held onto him, her arms blanketing his large frame, her head resting on his shoulder. Not sure how to react, and still anticipating the reprimanding, Gabriel continued to keep his head down. He kept it down even after Angela's breathing soothed, her arms relaxed around him, and her face sank next to his.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. Her voice carried its usual worry, but lacked the anguish he was expecting. "Gabriel, what's wrong with you?"

She didn't sound antagonistic. Gabriel wished she did so that he could have a reason be angry.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You're so cold." One of her hands slipped off of his back and found a place on his cheek. She lifted his head to meet with her’s. "Why don't you just ask me to help you buy something warmer?"

Gabriel sighed out through his nose. "Angela."

"Why must you be so stubborn?" she asked. The boat rocked a little. Water from the center of the boat flowed towards Gabriel, pooling around his boots. He could feel the water's cold reaching through the worn leather. "Why can't you just tell me you need help? Why does it have to be like this?"

What could he possibly say to her? He didn't buy a damn jacket not solely because it was difficult communicating with people whose first language wasn't English, but because he debated heavily if he wanted to go to Switzerland in the first place, that he was still debating if this constant trial of insubordination was worth him sticking around. How was he to explain the anger and humiliation he went through once he learned he was passed over in favor of Jack? After leading Overwatch to victory, his best friend–his subordinate–was given priority over him? Over a difference in ideals? Ethics? It was under _his_ leadership that  ensured Overwatch’s ability to thrive, and now he was being pushed into the shadows, recast in a minor role so that the people could have a pretty face to look at when they watched the news.

It went beyond purchasing a few extra pairs of winter clothing. To buy the jacket would mean an acceptance of the way things were. If he did what she asked and bought a jacket, it would mean he would stay.

"I don't know," he lied. "It just is. I'm sorry."

A rushed out answer. An admittance to Gabriel's failure and resistance to communicate. It came close to providing Angela a sense of what was wrong, but not enough for her to support him with a clear response. Ultimately, she was disappointed, in the day as well as the two of them refusing to fully comprehend the other. He came close though, she thought, insisting to herself that it was worth holding on to him a bit longer. The desire to hold his hand, to keep him safe and warm dwindled, but Angela persisted in the idea that providing him comfort, even in the event of failure, would help him grow in the future.

The skies above grayed and a gentle wind pushed the boat back to the center of the manmade lake. The two remained still; silent statues trapped together in an aimless vessel. The surrounding leave stirred. From above, the image of a magnificent, bright iris flourished under the gray autumn day, the light of the white engulfing the shrinking black pupil.

Angela held on. 


End file.
